Jen Silverman’s The Moors draws inspiration from the Gothic writings of the Brontës, but with a contemporary, subversive twist that makes it one of the best Yale Repertory Theatre productions in recent memory.
This dark comedy about love, typhus, isolation, and sublimated eroticism — which had its world premiere at the Rep and runs through Feb. 20 — has more layers than a mansion-sized onion.
In The Moors, two spinster sisters, Hudley (Birgit Huppuch) and Agatha (Kelly McAndrew), live out their bleak existence with only a mastiff (portrayed exquisitely by Jeff Biehl), and an infirm maid named Marjory (Hannah Cabell) for company. When a governess, Emilie (Miriam Silverman), is summoned by an absent patriarch to care for a non-existent child, the manor comes alive with clandestine ambitions and desire.
As Emilie arrives at the manor as an outsider, her link with the audience makes her the play’s likely protagonist, while elder sister Agatha slips easily into the role of villain; think Cinderella’s evil stepmother on steroids. The chemistry between Silverman and McAndrew — two first-rate actors — provides more than enough meat for any audience to sink their teeth into.
But all the characters have parts to play; nobody is an expendable spear holder. In Huppuch’s hands, Hudley builds meaning and humor even through repetition (“I’ll just leave my diary right here.”)
Biehl’s philosophical mastiff gets a romantic subplot with a moor hen (Jessica Love) that offers a barnyard counterbalance to the human drama, and a chance for the playwright to turn another genre convention on its head.
Alexander Woodward’s set transforms the stage from a Victorian parlor — walls cramped with paintings that could be on loan from the Yale Museum of British Art — to a vast, untamed marshland in the blink of an eye. Fabian Fidel Aguilar’s ingenious costumes appear timeless without coming off as anachronistic. As the play develops along with Huppuch’s fluttering sighs and the violin crescendos of Daniel Kluger’s ever-so-discreet score, humor and anguish are ever more intertwined. An awful lot happens for a play so based in isolation and boredom. Then again, as Cabell’s maid, Marjory, learns with the resignation of a pack mule, change is often illusory.
Disclaimer: As this reporter learned the hard way, if you are sitting in the first five rows, you may get wet. Recently the Yale Rep has gotten quite playful with its patrons. Its production of peerless put the spotlight on the audience as much as the actors. Will players toss Molotov cocktails into the aisles for their next show, Escuela, coming at the end of the month?
The Moors runs at the Yale Repertory Theatre, 1120 Chapel St., through Feb. 20.